


The only certain thing

by AmithiaEmrys (amithia)



Series: The Melee (prompts) [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e03 The Wicked Day, Hugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28911654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amithia/pseuds/AmithiaEmrys
Summary: “I will always stand by you,” he says more solemnly, fixing Arthur with his gaze, watching as something in his face gives a little more. “It’s where I belong.” And it is the truest truth of all. Not because of his destiny. Not because he’s magic and Arthur is the once and future King.Only because he’s Merlin, and Arthur is Arthur. And Merlin loves him. Completely, utterly, unconditionally.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Melee (prompts) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141421
Comments: 12
Kudos: 110
Collections: The Melee Challenge





	The only certain thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YouKeepMeRight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouKeepMeRight/gifts).



> Written for The Melee challenge. The prompt word was **shatter**.
> 
> This is also a little gift for **youkeepmeright**. It's just a silly thing but you said you miss hugs so I'm sending you one the only way I can 🤗
> 
> I had a different idea in mind at first, but then I saw [ this](https://myfavouriteenglishstuff.tumblr.com/post/640225910300327936) beautiful piece of art and i just.... ugh. I'm so soft for these two.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

“You were only doing what you thought was right,” Merlin says with determination. He put that look on Arthur’s face, he broke his heart. And now he made Arthur believe he’s at fault. That his selfless love cost his father his life. “That old sorcerer meant no harm. Perhaps the spell went wrong. Uther was dying,” he tries again, swallowing down his guilt. It doesn’t work. “Maybe nothing could have saved him.

“We’ll never know,” Arthur replies, level and cold. “All I know for sure is that I’ve lost both my parents to magic. It’s pure evil. I’ll never lose sight of that again.”

The words should be like a punch in the gut, a sword run through his chest. And they are. In their own way.

It is supposed to be Merlin’s destiny after all. To ensure Arthur will one day learn the truth - the real truth - about magic. That he will unite the lands of Albion and bring peace and prosperity, with Merlin by his side.

It should make Merlin feel like a failure. Because not only did he fail magic, not only did he fail Arthur. Most of all, he failed himself. And now, Arthur will never know who Merlin really is. He cannot. He’s not sure which would be worse; the hatred he’d find in Arthur’s eyes, or that he would have to leave his side, never to see him again. The sole thought sends a wave of dread through his body, nearly choking him in its wake.

Yes, the words should hurt, unimaginably so. But the pain pales in comparison to the anguish he can see reflected in Arthur’s eyes.

Merlin’s always felt a bit too much, way more than the situation called for. He’s also known how to handle it, the onslaught of emotions crashing into him like a tidal wave. It hasn’t exactly gotten easier with time, but he’s learned how to cope, how to pick himself up and go on. There has never been any other way anyway.

And yet, he just knows he will never get used to being a witness to Arthur’s own pain. Watching him suffer, so often due to his self-deprecating tendencies, will never cease to hurt more than anything Merlin’s been through.

So he doesn’t care. In this very moment, this very room, watching the man he loves sink into the abyss of guilt and self-hate, he doesn’t care about his destiny. He doesn’t care about the future of Albion. He doesn’t care about magic.

He only cares about putting the broken pieces of Arthur’s heart back together.

There’s a gentle knock on the door, but it startles Merlin all the same. He knows it’s Gaius, signaling that preparations have been made and it’s time.

Arthur’s face doesn’t give anything away as he slowly stands up from his chair, expression just as blank as it has been until now. His eyes tell a different story, swimming with carefully concealed rage and agony, and Merlin can’t let him go like this. He can’t let him go.

Ignoring every instinct of self-preservation, he grabs Arthur by his arm. It’s a testament to how tired he is that he doesn’t lash out at Merlin, doesn’t acknowledge him at all except for stopping on the spot.

“Arthur,” Merlin croaks out, heart beating frantically, threatening to jump out of his chest. And Merlin would allow it. He’d willingly give his heart to Arthur, to do with it as he saw fit. It belongs to him anyway. Merlin doesn’t remember a time it didn’t.

Arthur doesn’t reply, doesn’t even look at him. But he’s not trying to escape Merlin’s grasp either. And Merlin will take anything he can get.

“Arthur,” he repeats, just as hoarse and just a bit louder. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but for what it’s worth I want you to know I’d do anything, give anything to make this better. Anything to make it hurt less.”

He holds his breath, waits for Arthur to do something, anything. To yell at him that nothing will make this better, that there certainly is nothing Merlin could do to make this better.

“You’re wrong,” Arthur finally says, so quiet Merlin would miss it if he wasn’t listening with bated breath. Arthur dislodges his arm from Merlin’s hold, and Merlin’s heart leaps into his throat, only to find that Arthur did so in order to turn around, come face to face with him. “It means more than you can imagine,” he continues, eyes still haunted but there’s something else, too. Something that wasn’t there just minutes ago.

“Really?” Merlin chokes out, cursing internally when he feels his eyes burn.

“Yeah.” Arthur drops his gaze, licks his lips. “If I’ve learned anything in the past years, it is how temporal and uncertain everything is. You can never really rely on anything, or anyone.” His features harden further, a muscle jumps in his jaw. He looks at Merlin again. “You’re the only certain thing in my life. The one person I know is always there for me.”

There’s no point fighting the avalanche of tears Merlin feels coming. He lets them spill over, opening himself up to Arthur, letting him see what he doesn’t dare say outloud.

“Yes. Always,” he confirms, wiping the tears away with his sleeve when his vision starts to blur so much he almost can’t make out Arthur’s face. “Until the day I die.”

Arthur makes a disgruntled sound, some of his cold facade already breaking. “I’d actually prefer you alive, Merlin.”

For the first time since Uther took his last breaths that night, Merlin finds himself smiling. “Good to know we have something in common,” he tries for a joke and fails miserably. “I will always stand by you,” he says more solemnly, fixing Arthur with his gaze, watching as something in his face gives a little more. “It’s where I belong.” And it is the truest truth of all. Not because of his destiny. Not because he’s magic and Arthur is the once and future King.

Simply because he’s Merlin, and Arthur is Arthur. And Merlin loves him. Completely, utterly, unconditionally.

Arthur’s breath hitches, his eyes glisten in the yellow light of his chambers. Merlin feels something take over his body, an invisible force guiding him, and without any struggle he follows it. Lets his arms stretch out wide, lets his legs take him a step forward. This close, he can smell Arthur, the sweat on his skin and the scent of sunshine in his hair. His heart pounds against his ribcage almost painfully and nearly stops all together as he watches Arthur sway forward, as thought the invisible force is leading him as well. He falls into Merlin’s waiting arms, heavy and tired and warm, and Merlin wraps him in a hug instantly, pulls him closer, crushing him against his chest.

He knows the exact moment Arthur’s seemingly unshakable collectedness shatters. He all but sinks into Merlin, letting himself be squeezed tight, regardless of the discomfort of still being clad in his armor. His arms wind around Merlin in return, tentative, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to have this.

If Merlin had his way, he would tell Arthur exactly how much he’s allowed to have, how much he deserves. How much Merlin wants to give him.

Merlin hears him sob, just once, right next to his ear, and he tightens his hold further, uncaring that it’s bordering on painful. Arthur doesn’t care either, given how he presses his face into Merlin’s neck, buries his nose into the small patch of skin peaking through his neckerchief. He breathes Merlin in, inhaling deeply and exhaling with in a shaky whoosh.

Throwing all the remaining caution to the wind, Merlin follows suit, takes the opportunity of the proximity and burrows his own face into Arthur’s hair. It indeed smells of sunshine and the herbs Merlin uses for his baths, and he already knows he’s never going to forget that particular smell, that feeling of coming home.

Daringly, he trails one of his arms up Arthur’s back and sinks his fingers in his hair, relishing the feeling of it, silky and strong.

A whimper echoes in the room and Merlin’s not sure which one of them made the sound. It doesn’t really matter.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” he repeats in broken voice, grateful Arthur can’t see the guilt written across his face. “I’d do anything. Anything to make sure you don’t feel like you’re alone in this.”

Arthur starts pulling away, and for a second Merlin thinks he made a grave mistake, throwing his feelings at him like that. But then Arthur lifts his head, locks his gaze with Merlin’s, eyes glassy but cheeks dry, and says, “I’m never alone. Not when I know you’re here.”

Merlin’s face breaks into a smile, wide and toothy, a bit silly and most incongruous with his tear-streaked cheeks and snotty nose. They’re not hugging anymore, but he can’t bring himself to take his hands off Arthur completely, choosing to grasp at his chainmail instead. Arthur speaks again before Merlin can pull himself back together.

“I should go,” he explains regretfully, defeatedly, and turns to the door where Gaius sure must be waiting impatiently on the other side.

“Wait!” Merlin blurts out, halting his movement. “I can go with you _.” I should go with you. I want to go with you._

Arthur shakes his head gently. “No. I must do this alone.”

“But-”

“Merlin,” he says, exasperatedly, almost fondly. “It’s okay. I know you’re here.” He covers one of Merlin’s hands with his, squeezing reassuringly. “And that is enough.”

Speechless, Merlin only nods and watches with worry as Arthur makes his way to the door, watches him open it, revealing Gaius and his traditional raised eyebrow. Arthur gives him a nod in acknowledgement and steps out, turning back to Merlin to send a half-smile his way before he disappears into the hallway.

Merlin knows Arthur’s complete trust in him should make the guilt unbearable. The lies are too many, too deep and dark. And Merlin doesn’t deserve Arthur’s loyalty. Let alone anything else.

But come tomorrow, Arthur is to become King. The weight of his responsibilities will be crushing, draining him of all of his strength, whatever there is left of it. This is not the time for coming clean. It’s not the time for revealing secrets and truths that will destroy Arthur’s soul and break his heart.

The time will come, Merlin is sure of that. The time when Arthur will learn, about everything, about Merlin.

One day, when the hurt is not so fresh, the wounds not so raw.

One day, when Arthur’s heart has healed, when it’s strong enough to forgive Merlin for all the wrongs he’s done,.

One day, when Arthur’s love is stronger than fear.

Until then, Merlin will stay by Arthur’s side, like he always has, protecting him.


End file.
